Imajane
by LaMissile
Summary: The last moments of Imajane, down to her very final thought. And she's a little cuckoonutjobcrazy. Look! Spoilers! They're everywhere! Oneshot


A/N: Obviously spoilers to the Tricksters here. This is just a oneshot of Imajane about to die. How morbid.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own a thing. So now you can't hurt me. Ha.

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I'm pacing the rooms I've lived in for the best part of my life. The private sitting room, bedchamber, entryway. I walk through each of these over and over, passing the furniture which I don't use now. Plush chair, Rubinyan's mahoghany writing desk, our luxurious bed. I brush my hand swiftly on the soft, cool sheets.We have not slept together in it for some time now and I feel these rooms are mine alone. Then I pass my favourite terrace in the palace, my own, only used by me or Rubinyan. It overlooks the garden and ponds with the best view. I would step outside and look out, just for comfort, but if I do I could be shot. It's not likely, but the filthy raka could be anywhere. I drum my perfect fingernails on the glass door. 

My husband and the Lancers are keeping them out and finishing them off. The gods keep me safe. That minor raka god- who is he?- Kyproith, was confined to water. So the raka are as weak as their watery god. I control the land, Imajane!

There's a banging at the door and I'm pleased because Rubinyan shooed them away so quickly. I whisper softly what I would soon give in my victory speech, " They're back in their hovels, those raka betrayers, when confronted with our strong, luarin castles and men." I opened my mouth to ask news of our glorious win to whomever is at my doorstep, but something is wrong.

A maid has entered without my permission. That doesn't happen. I step out of her sight and close to the wall and desk.

"Your Majesty, you're needed! Come quick!" She is looking for me.

Out of habit, I say to her, " Do not enter-"

She approaches me with a very cocky smile, " Ah, Imajane. There are some people who want you."

The maid reaches out quickly and shoves me towards the door. I stumble and trip on the hem of my pink dress. My arms flail in the most unbecoming manner as they reach towards anything to halt my fall. I feel my hand reach the desk and close around a sharp steel letter opener. That maid is still grinning stupidly.

"I'll have that smile beaten out of you", I hiss and drag the letter opener through her dress and leg. She falls to the carpet with a scream of agony.

I scramble upright as someone outside yells, "Vereyu? What's happening!"A raka man comes in, but I barely notice as I retreat onto my terrace. I lock the glass doors behind me. It wouldn't stop anyone and yet they provide a weak feeling of security. I can hear the raka talk to the maid, Vereyu, as he inspects her wound. It's deep and he can't do anything about it, though he tries. I giggle softly. I've killed her!

I take advantage of his distraction. I walk to the edge of my terrace and grip the wrought ironwork barrier hard to prevent me from staggering again. There are bloody strangers inside of _my _palace and _nobody_ is stopping them! I see dead horses and men littering my ground. Rittevon men. I've lost and I hate those raka for it. Hatred is too easy, I think while I grind my teeth and stamp my slippered foot on the polished slate floor. Loathe, detest, that's so much better.

Then I realize I've been out here too long. That man should have taken me by now. I glance behind my pink silk shoulder and see he's waiting for me to come to him. It's the only way for me to live. And he knows I know. He even propped up the maid so she could watch my Choice. It would bring great honor to that raka to capture Queen Imajane. I choose the other option.

I turn my face away from him and look down a long way. There's a fish pond beneath me. I'm so high I can't see the fish. I can't jump over the iron barrier, it's too high. I'll have to climb over. I place my slipper, which is pink with gold embroider, on a curlicue of the iron railing. I try to put all my weight on it and it slips.They have no traction, so I remove them. It would do me no good to fall backward and lose concioussness. I place the slippers neatly beside me without looking at my tormentors behind me.

Now, barefooted, I crouch on the railing as I prepare to jump. It would look better if I stood, but I still don't want to fall in the wrong direction. That warm wind so suited to my Isles pushes me in every direction. It feels so wrong. Maybe because it's someone elses now.That was wrong too. Everything about thisis wrong. Nobody else could be Queen but me. Surely someone here realizes they are going to be lead by the wrong people.

I'm Queen Imajane and I don't go back on my decisions. I would die on my own land. And with that I pushed off and plummeted downward without a sound.

I didn't expect to be able to think while falling, but I see the water beneath me and am suprised. That's wrong too, becuse that's Kyprioth's. There he is, like a solid reflection in the water, wearing a gold crown very similiar to the illustrations of the old raka queen's. His grin is like Vereyu's. Victorious.

I can see myself in the water. Pink getting bigger. Closer. A flash of gold, the fish or the crown, I can't tell.

Water.

I never did learn how to swim.


End file.
